I published my last post six minutes before I had to be in session.
I sat in a Starbucks with my iPad and just wrote down what I was feeling as fast as I could and then hit “publish” right before standing up to go to my therapist’s office around the corner.
The next thing I remember is laying on her office floor. She told me it was the end of my session and reminded me that we could have a double session on Monday. She asked if that’s what I wanted to do and I just mumbled something. I had no idea what the hell to do or say and I was in a lot of questionable pain. I felt so helpless. I didn’t want to leave. I wanted to know what the hell had happened! Plus I had no idea how I was going to get myself home.
I honestly wanted to jump out the fucking window. It took everything I had to not scream and break everything in that office. I don’t even know why I would do either of those things, but it took a lot to NOT do them.
I can’t remember shit about much of the afternoon and evening. I know my head hurts and my injured hip is killing me – it feels like my leg was pulled out of the damn socket and pushed back in. My throat is killing me. I’m wearing lipstick I don’t remember putting on and I have a bag of makeup from Sephora that I don’t remember buying and there’s food in my bag that I was supposed to eat but clearly never did.
My wife happened to have her break at the time I got out of session. When she texted me, I pulled it together enough to make my way to her job, but I was so in and out that it’s all super fuzzy. She talked me down a bit and we agreed I should call my therapist.
I didn’t even know why I was calling but I did and left a voicemail. She called back one minute later. The reception was shit for both of us, probably because there was a torrential downpour outside, and I was sitting in a public retail store in the middle of Manhattan, so I wasn’t sure what to say.
I had no words. No voice. No thoughts or feelings. I heard her voice and I just went blank. Then I felt terrified and that made it even harder to speak. She said something about calming the system and reaching out to someone else. She said I didn’t have to talk about what was happening right now, but was there anyone I could talk to that would just help me feel grounded?
I thought, “Yes, of course. You want me to call anyone but you, right?”
Not in a defensive, angry way but more in a sad, “This is probably another beginning of another end” kind of way.
Regardless, it was a completely non-productive conversation and she only had like four minutes so that was that. She said she had to go and I hung up without saying goodbye because if I’d said goodbye, I think I would have broken into ten million pieces.
So here I am, alone yet again with all of this shit.
I needed her. I needed to talk to her. I needed to connect with her.
But no. Nothing. I got nothing. And I don’t even know why. WHAT WAS SO IMPORTANT?!
It’s been a long time since I lost an ENTIRE session. I’ll frequently lose minutes here and there, but it’s mostly me.
Yet today, when I so desperately needed my therapist, my own self denied me the chance to meet that need. Some part of me blocked her from me and that is just an impossible thing to even comprehend.
WHY? What the fuck is going on?!